


i've just gotta go

by AgingPhangirl (Madophelia)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Meeting, Fluff, M/M, in line for Muse tickets, inspired by my race for interactive introvert tickets, meet cute, strangers to... something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13006827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madophelia/pseuds/AgingPhangirl
Summary: Dan wants VIP tickets to see Muse, but he might just want the boy in front of him in the queue a little bit more





	i've just gotta go

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by our recent dash to get VIP tickets for Interactive Introverts (spoiler: I did and I'm meeting them next year!) I wrote this about dnp meeting in line for tickets. 
> 
> I made up the venue but I suppose its vaguely based on Manchester Football Stadium that sometimes doubles as a venue? idk. I made it up. For fun.
> 
> Title from Make Us Blind by Echo & the Bunnymen

He's glad he gets there early. There's already a tiny bit of a queue, people with even less of a life than him, but he joins on the end anyway, head down, staring at his shoes. Stay focussed. Don't get distracted. 

He knows it's mostly stupid to have invested this much into this whole thing. To be skipping a whole bunch of lectures, to be out of the house so early, lukewarm coffee in his hand, but it's a leftover from his early teenage years when he didn't get to do this. When there was no disposable income to fritter away, no student loan payment sat in his bank just waiting to be spent on frivolities. Back then he couldn't make the reckless decision to skip a day of education to stand in a line waiting for a box office to open. Now though, now he's technically an adult and can do whatever he wants.

So he's here. It's freezing, the beginning of December. He can see his breath misting into the air because the venue hasn't even opened yet and he's stood huddled against the frigid side of the building, behind the plastic rope. He's forgotten his scarf and gloves so his only attempt at keeping warm is to look at his phone and distract himself from it. 

He's got hours yet. The venue doesn't open it's doors for another hour and half and then the box office will take another hour to open at least. He could be at home, tucked up in the warmth of his own bed refreshing the ordering page on the internet, but he doesn't trust the wi-fi connection in his uni halls not to crash and make him miss his chance. It's much better if he does this in person. It could still sell out though, those with safe internet connections could still scupper him. 

"Hi," comes a voice from in front of him. 

He plucks a headphone from his ear and glances up. He's not enthusiastic about talking to random strangers really. He's here for tickets, not to make friends. Not with the teeny-bopper contingent of fans anyway. The ones that scream about the band on Twitter and say inappropriate things for their age group. No thank you. 

When he looks up, he's pleasantly surprised to find the person looking at him is not a part of that demographic. 

"Hi," he replies, shoving the hand holding his headphones into his pocket and tapping his phone to turn the music off. 

"You here for Muse tickets?" 

He's as tall as Dan is, a wide smile and nice eyes. His hair is cool, and Dan thinks he can see a glimpse of a pokemon on the hoody under his coat. Overall, he doesn't seem like an axe murderer so Dan feels safe in engaging in conversation. Not that he's trying to be social, just might as well pass the time somehow and this person doesn't seem too offensive. He might even seem nice. His smile is nice anyway. And his hair. Damn. He's thought that already, he's going round in circles. 

The guy is hot, Dan concludes. And he's been silent for too long. 

"Yup. Muse tickets." 

He sounds like an idiot. 

"Family hogging your internet too?" the guys asks, "Safer to do it in person, eh?" 

He's pleasantly northern. Dan is getting used to the accent since he moved here, but he hasn't found it endearing before now. 

"Uni halls," he clarifies, "shit connection to begin with before everyone starts with their Saturday hangover browsing and chokes the bandwidth." 

The guy nods, like he understands.

"I remember those days." 

Dan smiles, unsure where to go from here. 

"I'm Phil," the guys offers, saving Dan from having to think of something. 

"Dan." 

There's a weird moment when Dan thinks that maybe they should shake hands or something but he wills it to pass. Why is he so goddamn awkward all the time? 

"Well, Dan. Have you been to see Muse before?" 

"God no. I've never really been to anything besides a few music festivals." 

Phil smiles, wide. "I've never been to one of those, I bet they're fun." 

"Depends if you think six lads in a tent designed for four people is fun I suppose." Dan shrugs, chuckling slightly. 

The corner of Phil's mouth quirks up in a way that makes Dan blush. "That definitely sounds like a good time." 

Dan curses the way his tongue goes slightly dry and numb. It's awful timing, honestly. 

"I mean... I bet it's a good laugh." Phil corrects, laughter in his eyes at the way Dan is obviously flustered.

Since when do cute boys flirt with him in queues for Muse tickets? Better yet, since when did he become so comfortable with the idea of cute boys flirting with him in general? He'd made the decision when he came to university, so far away in a new city where his legacy as 'one of the lads' was left far behind, that he'd try to be more true to himself. Hide less. He hasn't taken any great strides towards that yet but straightening his shoulders and looking Phil right in his blue eyes is a good start. 

"It's a very good time," he says, letting his voice slide around the cadence of seduction. Not quite all the way there but tinged with it in the only way he knows how. Which is still awkward as fuck but it seems to do the trick as Phil's own cheeks go a little pink.

"What, er, what tickets are you going for?" Phil asks, hands making their way into his pockets and rocking on his feet slightly in the cold. 

He's much more suitably dressed for the weather, hoodie and coat, a scarf looped around his neck. He looks warm, Dan hopes that he's warm.

"VIP I hope." 

"Yeah, me too. They sell out fast though." 

Dan nods sagely, like he has any experience of these things at all. 

"I'm worried someone in front will take ages with their order and I'll miss out." Dan says, laughing over what are actually his real fears. Again, he really shouldn't be putting this much emphasis on this stuff. 

"I shall endeavour to be quick," Phil promises.

"Oh God-- No, I didn't mean. Shit. I wasn't like, having a go. I just--" 

Phil is laughing, his eyes are crinkled and his mouth is beautifully wide and mirthful. Dan hates the way he raises a hand to cover it. 

"It's fine, Dan. I was joking." 

"Right. Good." 

"I know what you mean, actually. I'm here for VIP too. If I can."

They share a knowing look, acknowledging how mad they are for even standing here in the freezing cold at the beginning of December praying for something unlikely to happen. They have to try though, right?

It turns out being willing to stand in a freezing cold queue for tickets to this band isn't the only thing they have in common. 

They discuss what Muse song is their favourite, what album, which video, and soon they are drifting away from the band entirely. Talking about TV shows and movies they both like, their similar penchant for late night wikipedia quests and Tumblr binges. 

They're so caught up Dan misses the moment the doors are unlocked, noticing only a short while after when there is commotion from the front of the queue. 

They all shuffle forward, packing in tightly with the people in front, straining to get towards the destination. Dan knows that the doors will open, allowing them access to the building. During the day, and sometimes the night, it serves as a football stadium. There are classes and events that take place in its conference rooms during the daytime hours which will start once the doors are open. The box office, which is their intended destination, doesn't open for another hour. 

It's warmer inside though, and Dan feels some of the blood rush back to his frozen fingers as the security guard ushers them inside, behind another roped off barrier, the closed shutter of the ticket window now in sight. 

Some of the people ahead rush forward, skirting around each other, vying for the best place in line. Dan does his own shuffle but doesn't really fancy squeezing around perfect strangers to get where he needs to be so he hangs back ever so slightly. He's surprised to find that Phil does the same, so that they end up in the same space again, Phil still in front but next to him. 

"So, really?" Phil continues, picking up their conversation as if they hadn't had a pause, "you've never read a Stephen King novel?" 

Dan laughs and shakes his head, "No way. I'd be way too scared I think." 

"You know that stuff isn't real," Phil says, low and slightly mocking. 

"Duh," Dan retorts, resisting the urge to stick his tongue out like a child. "I am perfectly logical, cynical even, given adequate daylight. Turn off the lights and suddenly my brain will see demons in folded up towels on the other side of the room. It's pathetic, I know, but there it is." 

Phil laughs jovially, and Dan delights in making that happen. He's fun, this random stranger, and he's beginning to think, crazy as it is, that Phil would be the sort of person Dan would get on with even in a real life situation, not just one where they've been thrown together in circumstances like these. It's a shame, that they'll probably never see each other again after this crazy day. 

"You know… I think the cafe is open too." 

Phil looks over his shoulder to the removable cart propped in the corner and one or two foldable chairs and tables scattered in front of it. 

"So it is." 

Dan doesn't know why he's doing this. He's waited ages for today, and he's risking missing out. 

"Did you want… I mean, I could… go get us coffee?" 

Dan feels his face heat up. He's suddenly aware of what it sounds like. Get us coffee. Like he's asking Phil out. For coffee. With him. Oh God. 

"You know if you… didn't mind like, holding my place? In line?" 

He doesn't know why he's still talking. Why is he still talking? Phil is looking at him with a perplexed kind of look on his face because of course he's an idiot and of course Phil doesn't want to have coffee with him, and why would he assume someone he just met is happy to hold his place in line and--

"Yeah, coffee would be great!" 

His eyes are huge and blue and Dan wants to dive right into them. Phil looks ecstatic at the idea of coffee and whatever weird emotion had been present before now is completely gone and only the pure joy of potential caffeine is left. At least, Dan presumes that's what he's so happy about. 

"And you'll…"

"Yes, Dan." Phil laughs, "I'll save your spot. Don't worry, nothing gets past mega-Phil." 

Phil folds his arms, sets his mouth in a comically straight line and nods his head once, sharply. 

Dan laughs at his ridiculousness, feeling a deep fondness go through him for no reason at all. 

He heads to the cart and procures two coffees with minimal fuss. It's only when he gets back to the queue that he encounters a problem. 

More people have joined the line in his absence. He should just skirt round them, push his way back into his place in the line next to Phil but he feels awkward, like they'll think he's pushing in. 

Phil looks up, sees him hovering at the end of the queue and grins over to him. Without asking, in some sort of miraculous feat of mind reading Phil leans over to the people blocking his way and asks them to move. 

"Excuse me, could my friend get back in line? He just went to get us coffee."

Dan doesn't know if he feels squirmy inside because of the awkward social encounter or because Phil calls him his friend. Either way he doesn't make eye contact with the girls in the queue as he moves past them. 

"Thanks," he says when he gets back into the spot behind Phil, passing him the coffee. 

"No problem."

They sip for a moment and it occurs to Dan that he is having coffee with a cute boy. Yet surprised at how much he isn't freaking out. Only a year ago it would have been cause for a little personal crisis but it's amazing what moving away from toxic school friends and a slightly restrictive home life will do for you. He's making good on that promise to relax a little and just be himself. A little bit anyway. 

"So tell me more about the tea people."

And they're off again, talking as though it's easy, like they've known each other for years rather than just a few minutes. Dan is still awkward of course, he flubs his words and trips over sentences but Phil never calls him out or makes fun of his accent, even though he absolutely could. It's nice, and he's vaguely disappointed when the queue starts moving.

"Here we go," Phil says, jumping on the spot and turning back to the front of the queue. 

"Good luck getting tickets," Dan says.

"You too."

Dan should ask for his number. He should do something, ask him to get coffee for real in a place where they can both sit down and have a proper conversation. But he's used up what little bravery he has already today so he just lets the lady at the desk call the next person and watches as Phil leaves the space between the ropes and goes up to the desk. 

That's that, he supposes.

There's a bit of a wait until he's called up to a window himself and he's greeted by an older woman who looks less than impressed to be here. 

"Hi," Dan says. 

She doesn't glance up, but keeps her eyes trained on the screen. She seems to be struggling with something. 

"Sorry," she says, "my system seems to have crashed. I'll have to reboot. Bear with me." 

Dan nods but glances over to the next desk as Phil walks away. He's sad to see him go without a proper goodbye but it's just one of things, a passing encounter he'll think about occasionally. Probably too often given how Dan's eyes linger on the curve of his shoulder as he pushes open the exit door. 

He sighs, it's done. He could have done more, should have done more but the chance is gone and he just has to live with it.

The woman is still battling the computer and he sees her hit the escape key a few times. The next person gets called to the other window and all at once Dan is keenly aware that his chance to get tickets is slipping away. 

"Sorry, I could just use the other--" 

"No, no. I won't be two minutes. I just need to get my colleague…" 

She stands up. Actually gets out of her chair and goes through an open doorway to the back office. Dan is left waiting, half thinking he should just sidle over to the other window where a young lad seems to be operating the computer with very little fuss. 

He's also gathered the courage to do it, to stop the next person in the queue from approaching the next window and just side-stepping into view when the woman comes back.

"I think I know what to do now," she says, sitting back down. She rearranges her glasses on her nose and looks through the bottom of them, through the small square of different glass that makes her under-eyes look slightly blurry. "Ah! There we go." 

Dan tries to smile, but he can hear the guy in the window over saying something along the lines of 'looking pretty scarce' and he's beginning to feel a bit of dread in the base of his stomach. 

"Now, what can I do for you?" she says, looking at him expectedly. 

"Um," Dan starts, "I… err… Muse tickets? VIP?" 

Her fingers tap on the keyboard and Dan hears every individual click as though they come with several seconds between them. It's possible that they actually do. 

"Ohhh," she sucks in a breath that whistles past her teeth, "I don't know. I'll have a look but…" 

"They're gone," says her colleague leaning over the divide between their desks. "Sorry mate."

The woman turns away from her computer and moves her glasses down her nose. "I'm sorry dear," she says, "looks like you're out of luck. These things sell out quickly online." 

Dan nods. "Okay, I thought--" he's trying not to get angry about the fact that she'd fucked off for a few minutes and possibly ruined his chance at tickets. If he was more confrontational he might have said something but as it is, awkward and conflict averse, he doesn't. "What about normal tickets?"

He settles for that instead, figuring he'd rather go to the gig in any way he can, even if he can't get VIP. 

"Nope," the guy says, "they're gone too. You could try re-sellers?" 

"Okay," Dan says, moving away from the desk. "Thanks, yeah I'll… try that." 

Disappointment is heavy in his gut. It tastes sour and he tries not to let it ruin everything but it feels as though everything good has slipped out of his grasp today. 

He exits the building, thankful at least that the metro stop is right next to it and he just has to go through the gate and cross to the platform on the other side. He's stuck his headphones back in so he jumps violently when he's tapped on the shoulder. 

"Jesus fucking christ on a boat!" 

"Um… wow." 

Phil is stood behind him, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly open. 

"You fucking scared me," Dan says, turning to face him and putting his headphones back in his pocket, "What the hell are you even doing?"

"Well, um... " Phil looks down at his shoe and scuffs the toe of his trainer against the join between two slabs. He shrugs a little, just a bit, it's barely noticeable but Dan catches it. Probably because he's looking too hard. "Did you get tickets?" 

Dan shakes his head, his nose scrunching up with the effort of not pouting like a child. "No, the woman on the desk was working against me." 

Phil laughs, "Oh my god, what happened?" 

"She had like, computer trouble or something and then just… walked off! And I'm really fucking awkward so of course I didn't say anything and by the time she got back all the VIP tickets had gone. Normal ones too." 

"Ah, that sucks." 

Phil bites his lip and a line appears on his forehead, right between his eyes. 

"Yeah," Dan says, "It does." 

There is a beat of silence and Dan casts his eye at the illuminated sign giving information about how long the metro is going to take to arrive. He has about eight minutes to wait. It's cold and Dan shoves his hands in his pockets to keep them warm.

"Actually…" Phil says, drawing Dan's attention back. "I…" 

"What?" Dan says as Phil trails off. 

"Ah, God this is so stupid. I… kind of… did something." 

Phil's cheeks are slightly pink. Dan doesn't know if it's the cold or something else but Phil is pretty with a little flush to his skin. He kind of wants to step closer, to steal some of Phil's warmth. 

"What did you do?" he asks. 

"Well when I got up to the desk the guy who served me said I was really lucky that I was getting VIP then because he could see there were only two left. So I bought both." 

"Yeah," Dan shrugs, "The woman said they sold out quickly. I mean… do you think I'd be mad that you bought the last two? It's fine. I mean… good on you. All's fair in gig-ticket-getting and war right?" 

Phil smiles at that , half of his mouth quirking upwards. "No that's not it." 

"Okay…" 

"So, I bought two VIP tickets and then I left, and I waited for you outside but you were ages and I assumed you'd bought a non-VIP ticket and just left through a different exit or something so I came here to wait for the metro and then you turned up--" 

Phil is rambling, all the words coming out quickly and joined up. He's buzzing, Dan thinks, with a weird kind of nervous energy.

Dan nods, slowly, "Yeah," he says a smile blooming on his mouth where he doesn't want it because Phil is kind of ridiculous but he likes it. "Glad that brings us up to our current situation… finding it difficult to see where you 'did something' in all of that though." 

He's weird. Phil is… weird. But Dan doesn't mind it. Not in the slightest. In fact, he's beginning to think that he'd like to find out just how weird he is. He should ask him for that coffee, a proper one, where they can sit down and continue the conversation about all the things they have in common. Where Dan can test his bravery and how far he's willing to push himself with this whole being-himself-without-shame thing. 

"I kinda…" Phil's voice gets quiet. He says more words but they're jumbled up and Dan doesn't catch any of them. 

"Sorry, what? Want to try that again without… you know, whatever that was." 

Phil looks up, takes a breath and kind of shakes his shoulders out. "I bought the second VIP ticket for you." 

Dan isn't usually the type to find himself at a loss for words. He can usually be counted upon to ramble at length and use twenty words where two will do and honestly, he's a bit of a wordy bastard by all accounts. However, in the moments that follow Phil, this enigmatic person who is beautiful and yet yes, basically a stranger, telling him that he's purchased a VIP ticket to see Muse for him, Dan cannot think of anything to say. 

His mouth hangs open, just ever so slightly. Lips parted, his tongue peeking out to swipe along his bottom one. 

"You…?" 

"I mean… because I wasn't sure it would like, still be available by the time you got to the desk? And then I wanted to wait outside the door for you to come out. I mean… I probably should have just said something before you went up to the counter, but I… wanted to… surprise you? I mean, I kind of wanted to tell you by yourself. Not in front of the… desk people. Or the queue." 

Dan nods. Not that Phil is making much sense of course. 

"God this all made sense in my head, I swear. I just thought… well we got on, a bit, and I thought that I'd help you out. Sometimes I do things that are a little… too much. I don't mean to. I swear I didn't mean for it to be creepy." 

"It's… a little creepy," Dan says, "But, um, in a good way?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Yes. I think so." 

"You think so?" 

"I mean… It's not not creepy. But I'm not too freaked out by it. Are you sure?" 

"Sure?" 

"That you want to have bought a VIP Muse ticket for a person you literally only just met." 

Phil smiles then and Dan realises how much he'd been waiting for it, had missed it when Phil was looking so worried about what his reaction would be. 

"Yes, Dan. Like I said… it was just that they were running out. That's all. I didn't mean you had to like, come to the gig with me."

"Okay--" 

"I mean, we'll probably have to sit together," Phil corrects. "But I don't have to talk to you. I will be completely quiet." 

"During a Muse concert?" 

"Yes." 

Dan cocks an eyebrow. 

"Okay, maybe not." Phil confesses, "I'll probably sing and be generally quite… myself. But I don't have to talk to you. If you don't want." 

"I want you to talk to me," Dan says before he really thinks about what he's saying. 

"Good. I want to talk to you too." 

Phil's eyes are really blue. Mostly. They have flecks of green and a light kind of yellow and they all swirl together to create this kind of galaxy looking thing that is kind of weird and shouldn't really be enticing or anything because it's so odd. He has this habit of opening his eyelids wide so that he looks like he's crazy when he talks or gets excited and Dan notices all of these things because he's just staring at him. Silent and awkward in a really disconcerting way. 

And his eyes are really nice looking. Even if they shouldn't be. 

Dan coughs, just clears his throat and looks over his shoulder at the board again. Two minutes.

"So… Are you going into town now? I can get cash out and pay you back. Or… you can give me your bank details and I'll transfer it to you." It's his turn to talk quickly, ramble ever so slightly. 

"Whoa," Phil says puffing his cheeks out. "Calm down. Yeah, yeah we'll sort it out. No worries." 

Dan shakes his head. "I need to… I should pay you back really soon. I'd feel better." 

Phil nods. "Okay." 

The metro rolls up the tracks behind them, all clatters and a bit of a rumble. It comes to a stop with a hiss. The doors open automatically all at once up and down the train and they make their way on side by side.

"Hey," Dan says as they sit, finding themselves selecting a seat next to each other even though the carriage isn't all that crowded. "Thanks. For… thinking of me. I wouldn't have been able to go otherwise." 

"Muse fans have to look out for other Muse fans," Phil says happily, looking out of the window as the metro sets off and the scenery begins moving past them. 

Dan wonders how his day has ended up so strangely. He'd been this close to not being able to go to the concert at all and now here Phil is, a knight in shining armour, giving him a way to see his favourite band. And in VIP!

"I should buy you coffee," Dan says suddenly. 

Bravery, it turns out, is best accomplished if you don't look at it head-on.

Phil turns back from the window giving him a fond surprised look. "You bought me coffee, remember? At the venue." 

"Yes," Dan replies, "I remember. But, I mean, actual coffee. From a place that does something other than run a filter coffee machine they bought at Argos. Like Starbucks, you know, shell out for that sweet corporation caffeine. To say thank you." 

Phil laughs, "Yeah, we could do that." 

"So we'll swing by the bank then… I'll buy you coffee." 

"You'll buy me coffee," Phil agrees with a grin. 

They get off the metro at the relevant stop and Dan's hands only shake a little bit as he puts his card into the ATM. He hands Phil the cash in a furtive way so that people walking past don't notice him handing over such a large sum and Phil swings his backpack round to the front of his body and slides the tickets from the front pocket. 

He holds them up, "You want seat 18 or 19?" 

Dan shrugs, "I don't mind. 18. My age." 

Phil tears them down the perforated middle and passes him his chosen ticket.

"I should sit in seat 22 then," he says putting his backpack on again the right way. "Think I can do a swap with whoever got that ticket?" 

Dan shrugs, "I don't know." 

"I'll just have to sit on their lap," Phil concludes as they turn in the direction of Starbucks, "watch the show from there."

"Yeah, Phil, I'm sure that'll go down a treat." 

Phil nods emphatically, "It would." 

Dan shakes his head and rolls his eyes and generally acts like Phil isn't the most intriguing and yet hilarious person he's ever met. As if the idea of Phil actually moving away to sit somewhere not next to him at a concert nearly a year from now doesn't make him feel the tiniest bit disappointed.

"You're so weird," he chuckles.

"I am. Sorry." 

"Don't be sorry." 

"Okay."

They walk for a bit, and Dan's mind starts to race.

"The concert is in a year," Dan says, because maybe he's only just realising that. 

"8 months," Phil corrects. 

"Yeah. That." 

"So?" 

"Well... " Dan says, dragging it out to see if Phil is getting his point. He isn't. "I mean, what if we go for this coffee and you decide you don't actually want to sit next to me at a gig in 8 months. What if I do something so horrendous that it makes you just dread it until the time comes?" 

"I don't think you could do anything that bad…" 

"No seriously, what if you--" 

"Dan." 

Phil comes to a stop on the pavement. Starbucks is in sight and Dan is determined that he's going to face his fear and buy the cute boy a coffee if it kills him. He just needs to convince himself that he isn't somehow forcing him into committing to some sort of weird future-date before Phil has had a chance to survey all the facts. 

"Are you always like this?" 

"What if I am?" Dan asks, "What if I'm always weird and awkward and awful." 

Phil smiles, "then I guess I've got my work cut out for me." 

"You do." 

Phil steps closer and his lovely blue eyes are even bluer up close and Dan wants to drown in them. 

"That's okay," he says, "I like a challenge." 

"Is that right?" 

"Yep." 

Dan swallows thickly and Phil bites his bottom lip. The thoughts going through Dan's head are inappropriate considering they only just met and he has to look away. 

"Test the waters?" he asks.

"Huh?" 

"Hold still, I'm going to try something." 

He leans in, smirking slightly as he closes the gap between them and softly presses his mouth to Dan's. Dan sucks in a breath as their lips meet and he's surprised at how soft the press of Phil is. 

Phil brings his hand up to cup the join between jaw and neck, his fingers curled around under his ear, thumb swiping over his cheekbone. His fingers are slightly rough and Dan can't help the small sound at the back of his throat. 

This is different to anything he's felt before. Slightly breathless and unexpected and just the right side of outside his comfort zone. This isn't bravery, not his anyway, but it's thrilling and exciting and he doesn't want it to end.

Dan leans in, just slightly, moving closer. He's almost brought his hand up to slide around Phil's waist when Phil pulls away slowly, stroking his fingers down Dan's neck and making him shiver. 

"Okay?" he says, face still close.

"Hm," Dan hums, unable to form words just yet.

"How about we just start with coffee?" Phil says finally, "no pressure." 

As if there is no pressure with the fact that he just kissed a boy on the pavement, the way his heart is hammering and his face feels hot. As if there is no pressure with the blue of Phil's eyes and the way he makes Dan's stomach turn over.

"No pressure except that we're going to a concert together nearly a year away," he says instead, trying to keep himself practical, not swept away.

Phil shrugs and steps back again. He's so relaxed about this and it almost makes Dan think about how many boys he must kiss on pavements outside coffee shops. 

"Then make sure this is the best coffee date I've ever been on," he says turning to walk towards the front door, "then we'll see where it goes." 

"Wait," Dan says, walking after him, "Date? This is a date?" 

Phil doesn't turn back, just swings the door open and steps through it into the warm awaiting coffee house. 

Dan rolls his eyes, looks like he's got his work cut off for him too. But he's going to buy the cute boy coffee, he's not going to overthink this, he's going to be brave. On their date. And then… they'll see where it goes.


End file.
